All Wrong
by Unchanging Delusions
Summary: In which Smaug and his oversized ego interfere with Bilbo's evening plans. Why does this feel so familiar…?


Didn't expect this to be my first fic, but I went to an all-day Hobbit marathon leading up to the third movie, and was bitten by the plot-bunny.

Minor spoilers for The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. Really, though, we all knew what was coming.

Enjoy!

**All Wrong**

Bilbo's whole body was tense as he slowly made his way through the horde. He would occasionally pause and inspect a group of gems, futilely searching for the Arkenstone. The thought that there could be a sleeping dragon nearby caused his throat to tighten with dread, and he was careful to make as little noise as possible.

This was, by far, his least favorite part of the journey. Up until this point, he had the reassurance of being surrounded by battle-hardy dwarves. He had learned a bit about swordplay, and was far more capable of defending himself now than he was when he first ran after the Company. Still, he was no warrior, wasn't even a real burglar! Back when he was trapped with the creature Gollum, he at least had the vague satisfaction that Sting brought him. Once again, he cursed his lack of weapon, even if it would only have brought him useless comfort.

As he advanced further into the massive hall, he was able to see just how vast Erebor was. How was he supposed to find one jewel in this place? What he wouldn't give to be back in his hole, enjoying a nice, relaxing evening by the fire.

_Focus, Bilbo, focus,_ he reminded himself. He was standing in the dwarves' long sought-after home, just a little more work and then he could return to his own home.

Climbing up a gold mound, his eye was caught by a cluster of cups. He reached out and pulled one free, intent on inspecting the surrounding area. As the gold – misplaced by the cup's absence – began to trickle downward, Bilbo glanced further up the mound as something was revealed.

Bilbo's breath caught.

There, right in front of him, was a large eye, closed in slumber.

Bilbo let out a small grunt of shock and ducked behind a nearby pillar, trying in vain to control his breathing. He did not dare move, for fear of awakening the beast.

He turned his head as a sudden noise caught his attention. The dragon's breathing had disrupted the gold, revealing a large nostril as well. Bilbo slowly crept around the pillar, hoping to put something between him and the beast. Once he was further hidden by the stone, he turned and stepped away, intent on leaving this area quickly, only to pause in despair.

More gold was being dislodged from its resting spot, falling to reveal even more of the dragon's form. Bilbo gaped in dismay as he realized that the dragon's sleeping form was curled around the very pillar he was taking refuge by. He was well and truly trapped, and the sheer size of the creature was putting him on edge.

Taking slow, cautious steps, Bilbo attempted to slink away quietly, but it was no use. Suddenly, there was the _clink-clink-_ing sound of many coins moving, and Bilbo turned and saw that the beast's head was shifting, moving closer to his position.

Smaug was waking up.

Panicking, but still moving slowly, Bilbo once again tried to back away. He abandoned any attempt at slowness when the eye suddenly opened. Bilbo dove down the mound of gold, hiding behind a large pile, hoping against all hope that the dragon wouldn't notice him.

As he lay there, Bilbo reached into his pocket and pulled out his ring, turning it over in his hand. The sound of movement came from behind him, and he quickly put the ring on, disappearing just as the dragon's head emerged from the pile of gold.

Now confident in his invisibility, but still no less terrified, Bilbo stood and faced the dragon, body tense and heart pounding.

"Well, thief," the dragon purred, "I smell you. I hear your breath."

Bilbo ducked as the now wide-awake dragon moved his enormous head over the hobbit's small form.

"I feel your air," said the beast, head slowly turning to try and locate the hobbit. Smaug turned back, now facing Bilbo fully, and moved his head closer to Bilbo's position.

"Where are you?" Closer and closer, until Bilbo could feel the hot breath on his face. "_Where are you?"_

Abandoning any chance at staying hidden, Bilbo ran down the mound, feet kicking up gold in his attempt to flee. The sound alerted the dragon to Bilbo's presence, and the creature's head lunged as Smaug attempted to catch the thief.

Bilbo ran, the sound and vibrations of the dragon's missed strikes spurring him on. He ran and ran, stumbling a little in panic, until he came to larger pillar. He quickly took cover, well-aware that his feeble attempt to escape was in vain.

"Come now, don't be shy. Step into the light," growled Smaug. "There is something about you…"

Bilbo trembled, jumping in fright when the dragon's head appeared around the corner of the pillar. He quickly looked for any escape route, but found none.

"You smell… familiar," hisses the dragon. "And you carry something. Something made of gold, but far more _precious._"

The dragon's voice is loud, even whispering as he is. Bilbo's head starts to ache, and the ring on his finger grows warm, almost hot. Unable to bear it anymore, Bilbo unthinkingly rips the ring off his finger, only to have Smaug's massive eye lock onto his.

There's a moment of silence. Bilbo's gaze is caught on Smaug's and something seems to flicker in those dark orbs. Before Bilbo has time to wonder at this, the dragon suddenly lets out a dry chuckle, the sound sending shivers down the hobbit's spine.

"Well, well, what a surprise," breathes Smaug. The dragon moves his head back and turns, gaze intense and piercing. "How fitting, that _you_ should be the Thief in the Shadows."

Bilbo is frozen.

_Say, something, you idiot! _Shaking off his stupor, Bilbo draws himself up to his full – and not at all impressive – height. Making sure that he voice is relatively steady, he speaks.

"I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug the Tremendous," offers Bilbo. His only hope is to stall for time, and pray that an opportunity to escape presents itself. "I heard stories of your greatness and merely came to gaze upon your mighty form."

It's a sad attempt, and he knows it. Still, in the back of his mind, something is telling him that the dragon will appreciate flattery. He has just enough time to wonder why he knows this when the beast moves.

The dragon steps back more, his full image now visible to the small hobbit. He pulls up his long neck and spreads his claws, stretching out his wings in the process.

_Show off,_ thinks Bilbo fondly. _Wait… what?_

"And are you impressed now? Then again, it always was easy to do," remarks the dragon.

Ignoring the strangeness of his own mind, Bilbo continues. "Truly, you are magnificent, O Great Smaug. The rumors do not live up to your full splendor."

The dragon stares at the hobbit silently, seemingly ignoring the attempted swaying. Smaug lowers his head and steps closer, eyes never leaving Bilbo's.

"You know my name," and here Bilbo detects just the slightest bit of irony in the dragon's tone, though he doesn't know why, "so tell me, what is yours?"

"I-I am, that is, my name is," stutters Bilbo. Instinctively, he knows that revealing one's name to a dragon is unwise, but he can't silence that sudden voice in his head. The one telling him to be honest with this creature, since lies and misdirection will be brushed aside, anyway.

_Can't hide from him_, that voice whispers coaxingly. _He will know._

He doesn't find that very reassuring.

"Bilbo." Suddenly, his mouth is moving on its own, and he can't stop the words from falling out. "It's Bilbo Baggins."

"Bilbo," drawls the dragon.

He flinches.

For some reason, Bilbo thinks that was wrong. That Smaug called him by the wrong name. Utter nonsense, of course, since Bilbo _is_ his name, but he can't help but feel like something was off. It was almost as if the dragon's voice didn't match the name being called. As if the two – his name and the dragon's strangely familiar voice – were not meant to go together.

"Tell me, Bilbo the Forgetful," growls Smaug, "where are your dwarf friends?"

Bilbo blinks.

In all of the strangeness brought about by this conversation – forgetful? What was he forgetting? – Bilbo had almost forgotten his original purpose. Forcing himself to remain as calm as possible, Bilbo put a confused look on his face.

"Dwarves? What dwarves?" He shakes his head a little, making his voice as earnest as possible. "I don't know any dwarves."

"Liar!" Smaug snaps, as he begins pacing. "I can smell them on you. Doing their dirty work, are you? They're waiting in the shadows, assuming safety, while you risk yourself for their goal."

"I don't know what you're talking about," interjects Bilbo. He finally breaks his gaze away from the dragon and glances around, once again trying for an escape route. Something catches his eye, and he looks down.

There, not six feet from where he was standing and partially buried under some gold, was the Arkenstone. The white gem seemed to glow, and he could just barely make out a colorful gleam. Bilbo looked towards the dragon, but the creature was pacing and ranting about dwarves, paying hardly any attention to Bilbo.

The hobbit crept towards the jewel, eyes occasionally shifting back to the dragon. He was so close, just a little more and he'd be there. Once he had the Arkenstone, Bilbo was going to run for it, being around this dragon had started messing with him.

He freezes as Smaug turns his head back towards him, and tries for a calming tone. "Truly, I do not lie, O Smaug the Great Calamity. My purpose here is as I have said," he spreads his hands in a placating manner. "I am alone."

At his words, the dragon seemed to bristle. His voice, when he spoke, was filled with heat and menace.

"_Alone?_ What do you know of alone? Do not try to lie to me, I can smell the stink of dwarf nearby," Smaug growls, as he takes threatening steps towards the hobbit. "Your lies are pathetic, and your trust is misplaced. I tell you now, no good will come from your association with _dwarves._"

The last word is said with such venom that Bilbo flinches. Unable to take any more, Bilbo darts for the stone, only for a giant claw to slam down in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. The Arkenstone, disrupted by the dragon's force, falls down the mound, and Bilbo gives chase without any hesitation.

"Did you think I would not notice?" Smaug roars, as he advances on the retreating hobbit. "That I did not know? Those greedy dwarves are drawn to my treasure, their filthy little hands always grasping at what they cannot have!"

Bilbo runs. His focus is on the stone, and he follows it while attempting to avoid the dragon's rage-induced movements. He absently listens to the creature's boasting rambles, unable to help the small spark of exasperation he feels at the dragon's words. Occasionally, he would feel a great wind as Smaug passed right by his body, but he had no time to wonder why the dragon kept missing.

Finally reaching a more level area, Bilbo ducks under a nearby platform, eyes on the Arkenstone lying a fair distance away from his covered position.

He tries to advance closer, but when Smaug's head lowers to see under the platform, Bilbo hurries to hide, unwilling to let the dragon see his exact location.

"Oakenshield sent you, didn't he? Sent you here, all by yourself, to retrieve the Arkenstone," rumbles the dragon. "Did he promise you a share, Bilbo? Did he bribe you with a portion of my treasure?" It sounded like the blind rage had calmed, and Bilbo marveled at the sudden mood swings the creature was capable of.

"No, no, that's not why I–" Bilbo blurts out without thinking. Cursing himself for his thoughtless response, he realizes that there was no way to get him out of this situation. The dragon really could see right through his lies.

"How unsurprising, then, that your loyalty is so quickly gained," laughs the dragon. Smaug circles around the platform, leaving no room for the hobbit to escape. "That, too, once belonged to me. The dwarf's brazen greed truly knows no bounds."

Bilbo is about to reply when he pauses. 'Belonged to him'? What is he talking about? This is the first time he's seen the dragon, how can he make such a claim? This creature has clearly gone a bit mad, if he's presuming ownership of Bilbo's loyalty. Still, Bilbo can't shake the earlier feeling of familiarity at both the dragon's voice and mannerisms.

"Do you–" Bilbo hesitates, unsure if he should be voicing this question. "Have we… met?"

Smaug laughs.

The sound startles Bilbo, as this is different from the previous snicker. This laugh had more genuine emotion behind it, and it sounded… fonder?

"Met, indeed! Though you seem to have forgotten, we were well acquainted long ago. Or was it long from now?" Smaug says, as he slows his pacing. Eventually, he stops completely, curled almost completely around the platform. Bilbo notices that the path to the Arkenstone is clear, the only exit not covered by the dragon's body. "But my memory is not so fragile," continues Smaug. "I have had plenty of time to dwell on those times, whereas you seem to have abandoned the recollection."

Bilbo, completely thrown by this revelation, slides down the pillar until he is seated on the gold. His mind is chaos, and his thoughts are swarming in confusion.

_That… can't be true_, he thinks. There is no way that he would have forgotten meeting a dragon. He had never even left the Shire before now! And Smaug hadn't left the mountain in nearly two-hundred years! Bilbo hadn't even been _alive_ that long.

"Impossible…" mutters Bilbo. There is no way this is true, the dragon is probably lying to him.

"Indeed?" Smaug inquires, clearly amused. "I have been here two centuries, I have had plenty of time to remember it all. What do you, a mere creature of not even one century, think you know that I do not?"

Something about that statement catches Bilbo's ears. _Two centuries…_

"If you've been here so long, are you sure your 'memories' are completely accurate?" Bilbo might have been shocked at his casual tone towards the fearsome creature earlier, but at some point during this strange conversation, he became used to the dragon. He was aware that he was getting dangerously close to _chatting_ with the dragon, but couldn't muster enough fear to stop.

"Do not compare me to your own pitiful limits," snapped Smaug. "I assure you, my words are true. I have had naught but my thoughts for company for so long, I am well aware of my own capabilities."

Smaug shifts his body a little, the sound of rattling coins acting as a personal accompaniment to the dragon's very being. Bilbo catches the glint of coins falling from the dragon's body as he lowers himself to the ground, still curled around Bilbo's hiding spot, tail swishing in slow contentment. Bilbo can't help but picture a cat, basking on a windowsill absorbing the warmth of sunlight–

–_sprawled out across the couch, curled up in the too-small armchair, he always was fond of odd positions that made his own limbs ache just by watching–_

Startled, Bilbo jerks out of the thought, confusion now more prominent than any fear he still felt around Smaug. What was going on with him? What were these strange memories? He shook his head in an attempt to focus, turning his attention back to the dragon.

Smaug's last words triggered another flag in his mind. The recent voice in his head was focused on something Smaug mentioned, and he remembered something that happened back at the beginning of this encounter.

"_What do you know of alone?" _

"Two hundred years by yourself?" Bilbo can't stop the concern leaking into his voice.

Dragons are utterly unknowable creatures, and he can't even begin to imagine what that kind of solitude would do to a normal person. Elves were immortal as well, an odd thing to imagine for Bilbo, but they were surrounded by their own kin, enjoying and able to share their long lives with others. What would someone do, when faced with an entire lifetime of solitude?

"Yes," states Smaug simply. The dragon's tone had gone flat, almost completely emotionless. "I neither want nor need the company of others. The gold sings to me, and I am quite content to indulge myself in the thirst."

Bilbo hears a loud exhale, and notices that the dragon's voice was still blank, as if he really felt no emotion about his current state.

"It is a far better drug than any others I tried back then," continues Smaug. "I could hear the gold more clearly every day it was amassed by that fool Thror. It called and called to me, and I relished the day I first claimed the treasure as mine."

Bilbo is silent, unable to shake the feeling of dread that was slowly building in his chest.

"The mountain belongs to me, and its treasure is mine," hisses the dragon. "This song of gold is one I will not share with anyone."

_He's gone mad._ Bilbo is not sure why this is so shocking to him, but he still feels a great sadness and a sense of… guilt? He can't help but think that this is somehow his fault, though he's really not at fault at all. It's understandable, even. No matter how great a creature Smaug is, the gold sickness has completely settled in the dragon's mind. Probably has been since long ago, it seemed like it was a common trait amongst dragons. _Still, for a mind a great as his to be twisted so…_

Bilbo tries to find something to say, but his words have run away from him. The strange knowledge he has of this dragon's habits is telling him that there's nothing he could say that would help. He's not sure why he wants to anyway, but he does.

"And what of you, then?" Smaug asks. "Will you still try to deliver the Arkenstone to him? I would let you take it, if only to see that pathetic would-be king be driven mad by it. It would corrupt him, as it did his grandfather before him" Smaug lowers his head so that Bilbo can make out the side of his face from his spot on the floor, the dragon's eyes lazily searching for the hobbit. A cruel smirk grows on the serpentine face. "Clearly the dwarf places no value on your life, if he sent you instead of coming himself. He is weak. How pathetic your dwarf is, clearly nothing more than a spineless–"

"Be nice," snaps Bilbo automatically, his irritation at the dragon's words getting the better of him. His own words suddenly register in his brain, and he is horrified. Surely, such an attitude will not be taken lightly by the dragon, and Bilbo is fully expecting an attack of some sort.

Instead, there is heavy silence.

Bilbo, still tense in anticipation, peeks his head around to better gauge the dragon's expression, only to freeze when he finds eyes already locked on him. Smaug's face is unreadable, and Bilbo is unable to relax as the silence stretches on.

The dragon's eyes flicker, and Bilbo is just about to open his mouth and apologize when Smaug speaks.

"John."

–_he's insulting the client again, and a hand reaches out to grab onto the coat-covered arm, the reprimand falling from his mouth in easy familiarity–_

–_an explosion goes off next to him and he ducks for cover, gripping his rifle like a life-line, bracing himself before running to the prone figure as he pulls out his medical kit, dropping next to the still body and searching for that reassuring rhythm, for any sign of life–_

–_someone calling his name and he ignores it, because he knows that tone, knows that nothing but trouble follows and he really doesn't feel like getting shot at today, he has _plans_, dammit–_

–_a loud crack, i__ntense burning agony, nothing but pain pain __**pain**__ and he can't move, and his leg is–_

Bilbo gasps and jerks back, completely forgetting about staying hidden. His heart is hammering, his head is throbbing, and _why can't he breathe?_

"W-what are you – what was that?" Bilbo is horrified and scared, because these memories running through his head are wrong, they don't fit, and they're so _familiar_.

Smaug just stares at him, waiting, though for what, Bilbo has no idea.

"That," declares the dragon, voice soft, "was your name."

"My… name?" Bilbo questions. "No, that… that wasn't – that's not–"

"It was," says Smaug firmly. "Back then, that was what you were called. Although," and here Smaug smirks, finally showing some emotion, "perhaps it was foolish of me to tell you. Those days are over, and there is no point in going back to them."

Bilbo sits as still as possible, trying to even out his breathing.

He has to get out of here. _Now._ Smaug is distracting and confusing him, and he needs to get the Arkenstone to Thorin. He's wasted too much time here, and the others are probably worried. He hopes they haven't written him off just yet.

_They wouldn't, if they trusted you more,_ a voice in his head whispers.

Bilbo ignores the poisonous words and slowly stands. Smaug had turned slightly and was staring off into the distance, as if lost in thought. Slowly, Bilbo started walking towards the Arkenstone, trying not to attract any attention to himself. If he can get just a little closer, he's going to start running. He can't spend another minute with this strange being.

"On account of our history," Smaug says suddenly, startling the hobbit. His gaze is still unfocused, so Bilbo continues moving, inching closer to his target. "I am willing to let you leave here alive. However…"

Bilbo, close enough to the stone by now, starts running towards the jewel, hand reaching to grab it. He stumbles and falls when the dragon's powerful tail whips around and slams into the ground right beside him, sending both the Arkenstone and the hobbit flying.

Bilbo tumbles through the air before coming to a rolling stop. He groans in slight pain and looks around, noticing that he's near the stairs that will take him out of here. The mounds of gold taper off to reveal the actual flooring by his feet, and he spots the Arkenstone lying between him and the approaching dragon.

Smaug, for his part, looks bored. His voice is cold and empty, whatever fondness previously apparent had faded to distant anger.

"However," he continues, "I will not allow you to take even one piece of _my_ treasure."

Bilbo, abandoning all pretense of calm, glares at the dragon. He's had enough of this. Smaug and his mood swings are something that Bilbo is all too eager to leave behind.

Thinking this, Bilbo's hand slips into his pocket, gripping the ring tightly.

Smaug, amused at the expression of the hobbit's face, laughs. This laugh is cruel and mocking, and Bilbo grits his teeth as he pulls the ring out and brings it to his hand, waiting.

"Well, then, John," leers Smaug, as Bilbo's hands clench at the use of his – no, no _not_ his – name, "it looks like our time is up. I would suggest you leave before I change my mind." Smaug grins, the expression showing all of his sharp teeth. "Recently, I have been so… _changeable._"

Bilbo's body jerks at the sting those words cause, and suddenly, he is _mad_. His glare intensifies as Smaug laughs, and he drops his gaze to the Arkenstone, calculating.

At the sudden feeling of warmth, Bilbo glances up and sees that Smaug's chest is glowing. The internal glow is traveling up the dragon's chest and neck, and Bilbo has just enough time to place the ring on ring finger and roll out of the way before the dragon lets loose the fire. The flames pass over him and the heat intensifies.

Bilbo starts to sweat from the intense heat, but he doesn't stop as he comes to a brief stop by the Arkenstone. He grabs the stone and turns towards the stairs, running full speed. Smaug lets out a loud roar, and Bilbo hears the sound of thrashing as the dragon attempts to find the hobbit.

_He wasn't really trying,_ Bilbo thinks, as he makes it to the safety of the upper level halls. He turns a corner and stops by a wall, leaning against it heavily. His panting is almost drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat, and Bilbo stays there for a moment, collecting himself.

Breathing now evening out, he takes off his ring and puts it in his pocket, bringing up his other hand to inspect the Arkenstone.

So much trouble for one little jewel. As Bilbo turns it over in his hand, the dragon's words come to mind.

"_I would let you take it, if only to see that pathetic would-be king be driven mad by it. It would corrupt him, as it did his grandfather before him."_

Surely… surely that wouldn't happen to Thorin. The dwarven king was proud and stubborn, yes, but he was also noble and honorable. It was clear, even to the simple hobbit, that he placed a great value on his kin. The rest of the Company trusted him completely, and they would keep him honest, right?

"_He is weak."_

Bilbo thought of Thorin, the strong and stubborn dwarf. Then, as if it was completely natural, Smaug came to mind. The undoubtedly intelligent and fearsome creature admitted to succumbing to the gold sickness, though the dragon reveled in his madness. If such a strong being is unable to resist the call of gold, why should one dwarf be able to?

Slipping the Arkenstone into his pocket, Bilbo starts making his way back to the Company. He would give the stone to Thorin later, after they got away from this place. Bilbo had no intention of seeing that dragon again, so he would just tell Thorin that they should leave. Once they were far away from here, Bilbo would hand over the Arkenstone and they would find a new home for the dwarves.

_Yes, I'll give it to him later, _Bilbo thinks.

He ignores the voice in his head telling him to go back to Smaug, to just stay and talk for a little more. It's clear to Bilbo, even if the voice doesn't want to admit it, that whatever help or comfort Bilbo might have been able to provide would be lost on the dragon in his current state. There really was nothing he could do for the creature any more.

"_John."_

Bilbo shakes his head and continues walking, the sound of the dragon's frantic searching slowly fading.

* * *

><p>As Bilbo watches Smaug lay siege to Lake Town, a horrible sense of guilt swells in his chest.<p>

He still has the Arkenstone in his pocket, as the timing never seemed right to hand it over. Even now, with Erebor empty and their home awaiting, the Company all stood in horror as they watched the rampant destruction.

Maybe, if he had listened to his instinct to go back to the dragon, he could have prevented this. If Thorin hadn't been so stubborn, maybe they could have left the mountain and found a new home. If he had given Thorin the Arkenstone, the dwarf might have been more willing to listen to reason, and not antagonize the volatile dragon.

If, if, if.

From their viewpoint, they are too far away to hear any sounds from the village except Smaug's roars. Bilbo is certain he will be hearing that sound in his sleep for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, Smaug flies above the city, but he is clearly struggling, and his movements are jerky. Eventually, his form stills and he falls down, crashing into the village. He doesn't move after that.

All around him, the Company cheers as the dragon is vanquished. They speculate how it was done, and turn towards Erebor, intent on following their king.

Bilbo doesn't move, and his eyes are locked on the distant prone figure of Smaug. He can't see anything but the falling dragon, the still body falling gracelessly to the ground. Something else begins to take the place of the dragon. Another figure, a man, falling–

–_limbs flailing and coat ruffling as he drops, a horrible pain in his chest and his voice, screaming–_

–_a distant, horrible thud, his feet pounding as he approaches the figure, pain as something hits his arm and he falls to the ground–_

–_his vision sways as he gets up, and he's running again, pushing others out of the way as they try to stop him, voice cracking and vision blurry–_

–"_He's my friend, let me through, please!"–_

"_John."_

Bilbo starts to tremble, and his vision blurs as something warm falls down his face.

"Sherlock."


End file.
